God Help The Outcasts
by Charles Xavier
Summary: Nightcrawler makes a silent prayer...contains some Mystique angst as well. Please RR.


Author's Note: This is my version of how X2 should have perhaps ended…fine, not my best written angsty fic, but hope you like it anyway!

The song 'God Help The Outcasts' is sung by Bette Midler.

(4/28/05) Since fanfiction **dot net **has banned the printing of other people's song lyrics, I have been forced to remove the lyrics from this story. But it's really nice listening to the song while reading this at least!

…

**_God Help The Outcasts_**

**_By Charles Xavier_**

…

"Lamb of God, you take away the sins of the world…have mercy on us."

Nightcrawler felt uncomfortable kneeling down inside the quiet church. Even though there were only a small handful of people around the benches, he knew by his sense that they were all looking at him rather suspiciously, concealed in that dark cloak of his. Of course, the young mutant had to cover himself up if he was going to come to the church and pray…otherwise he would be unwelcome, because of his inhuman appearance. And how ironic that sounded; even the strangest people should always be welcome to the house of God, but since the beginning of all the mutant protests, this place has made its strict changes.

"Lamb of God, you take away the sins of the world…have mercy on us."

Nightcrawler continued his prayers on his pew, facing the shining altar of God under the sun's rays, piercing through the church's windows. In the middle was a beautiful painting of the Virgin May herself, looking up to the Heaven's clouds, and holding her newly born baby in her arms. That mother's face, and that baby's innocent appearance reminded Kurt back to something…

"Lamb of God, you take away the sins of the world…grant us peace."

…his mother; the mother he never knew and the mother who took no care of him…but why? That was a question that made Kurt suddenly lose his concentration in prayers. This feeling disturbed him greatly even if slightly thought of, and it was hard to shake off his mind: what does it feel like to be loved?

"What does it feel like to be loved?" He whispered to himself. "How can one live a life without being loved, Father…? Why was I abandoned from the people who gave this life to me?"

He raised his head up to the altar and gazed deeply at the Virgin Mary and her baby…

"Father…"

…

"Mystique?"

Magneto wandered around the deserted beach during the sun settling evening, searching for his ally. All he the life he could find were a few noisy sea gulls, quarreling over a dead silver skinned fish between them. But then, the man heard some distant crying along the ocean's waves.

"Mystique?"

Taking his feet off from the ground, Erik flew across the beach and finally found the shaping shifter, weeping silently to herself on the dry sand in her crouched up position. She didn't look like she wanted anybody to see her face…or maybe she was too ashamed of herself.

"Mystique." Erik said, as he stepped back down onto the beach. "It's getting rather cold now…you better come back inside with us."

The depressed looking woman didn't answer him, like as if he wasn't even there.

"Mystique?" Erik let out his hand and settled it down onto Mystique's cold shoulder, trying to give her some comfort. But she angrily pulled his hand away in great disgust. "What's the problem?"

"Just leave me alone!" Mystique's broken voice spoke. "There's nothing you can do…there's nothing any of you can do about it."

Erik at once knew what was troubling Mystique…and he wasn't surprised. She always acted like this when she felt depressed…and she'd be crying like this every now and then…whenever she felt alone…whenever she looked at her reflection in the mirror and asked herself who she was…and what she has done. Erik knew all about it, ever since he first met her.

"I know that nobody can ease the pain, Mystique." Erik replied. "But crying over this won't help anything…and you don't want to let our new friend Pyro see you like this, do you?"

Mystique lifted up her face and looked upon at Erik, with her black colored tears still streaming down her cheeks. "I can't help it…I've just seen that my son doesn't even recognize his own mother…do you know how much that means to me? He looks at me as if I'm just a complete stranger to him."

"Come now." Eric said. "You shouldn't look so down on him."

"I look at people however I want." Mystique snapped at him. "Don't tell me how to deal with my personal issues."

Erik saw that arguing would bring this situation nowhere…he had only made Mystique angry. So kindly, he turned around and was about to fly away, but before he did so, he said:

"You should be thankful that he's still alive…and that you got to see him…"

…

The night was beginning to turn colder…Mystique looked out into the dark ocean during the starlight night…and wondered where her son could be at this very moment. Maybe he was thinking about her, like she was…and suffering through that same pain…that pain of something missing in life: care.

"Nightcrawler, my son. Please find it in your heart to forgive me someday...I'm sorry."


End file.
